


Silence

by AvaKelly



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meddling Tony, Oblivious Steve, Sharing beds, bonding over gaming, but it works for them, drawing and sketches, pepper is the most innocent here, smirking pepper, staying out of it bruce, the boys won't use their words, threatening natasha, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaKelly/pseuds/AvaKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Steve breaks the first controller just trying to learn how to use it. He breaks the next three while getting really engrossed in the games, because you know, it never helps to smash that button, but everyone smashes it anyway. Clint said so."</p><p>Or: Clint introduces Steve to videogames. That wasn't the romance option the games said would be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hrafnsvaengr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hrafnsvaengr/gifts).



> All the thanks go to Hraf, for the idea and the beta :D

In the aftermath of the Chitauri invasion, a lot of arguments had broken out. Mostly between Steve himself and Fury. Natasha had been expecting Tony to be the most vocal one, but Steve's showed them, didn't he...

He sighs, looking out the window at the car with the two agents keeping an eye on the Stark Tower. The air moves and the hairs on the back of his neck stand with sudden goosebumps.

"Fury's said he's letting us go," Steve tells the presence.

Natasha hums. "Fury only trusts two people in this world and one of them is already dead."

"Agent Coulson," Steve grimaces.

Silence follows. When Steve looks, Natasha is gone, but Clint is standing in the doorway, shoulders scrunched and hands in pockets. He looks like Steve feels. Small.

He waves at Clint and gets a tip of Clint's chin in return. After Thor had departed with Loki, Clint's left with Natasha, and they'd both been away for a while. Now, a few weeks later, the two assassins have appeared at the Tower as if they’d always been there. Clint and Natasha popped up one evening while Steve, Tony, and Bruce have been watching a movie, managed to scare Tony by dropping on the sofa next to him.

Tony screamed. He will not admit to it.

Clint looked like a ghost. Natasha appeared to be unaffected, but since then, Steve's started to see beyond the facade, and she isn't as immune to what Loki did to Clint, not at all.

"Hey, so, what are young guys up to all day this century?" Steve asks.

He'd try Tony and Bruce, but they don't seem like well versed in the daily runnings of staving off boredom, too absorbed by their science. Steve gets some things, but not nearly enough to make lingering around the labs any level of entertaining. Buck had liked science way more than Steve, he'd been better at it, too.

So maybe Clint can help. Steve's read all material provided by SHIELD, current events, some history of the past seventy years, norms and regulations. They didn't include anything about socializing though. Just like them. Keep the defrosted away from the living, move along, nothing to see here.

But Clint is not answering. He's watching Steve with hard eyes and Steve squirms despite himself. He runs his hand over the back of his neck, suddenly back to the awkwardness of his days before the war.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "didn't mean to..." he waves a hand, words lost.

A hand touches his shoulder and Steve looks up. "I can't hear you," Clint shouts.

Steve startles enough to stumble half a step back, and that makes Clint laugh.

"Too loud?" Clint asks, although the volume of his voice hasn't gone down.

Steve nods, eyebrows raised.

"Forgot my aids," Clint says, pointing at one of his ears with a rolling motion.

Oh. Oh!

He feels his face heat so fast, it makes him dizzy. But Clint laughs again, soundlessly, before waving a hand at Steve to follow.

Clint leads them into the room Tony uses for movies. The place is dark, but on screen there's a sort of animation. Clint settles on the floor in front of one of the sofas there, pats the carpet next to him and Steve joins.

"Videogames," Clint says, a little too quietly.

Steve nods without understanding, watches as Clint picks up a piece of tech from the floor, pushes buttons. On screen, the weird looking man jumps on a bunny.

Huh.

It doesn't take long for him to get the gist of it. Clint controls the movements of the man in the game, which he uses to collect things, fight other players and do a variety of things. It captures his interest for a long while.

But he can't help himself from sneaking glances at Clint. The archer looks serene, but there's a hardness in the set of his eyes that runs below the image he presents. Just like Natasha, there's more under the calmness, and Steve wishes he could soothe at least one of them, especially since neither Tony, nor Bruce seems to have escaped the tendrils of suffering.

On screen, the animated character picks up an impossibly large sword and Clint grins at Steve, bumping their shoulders together. Steve can't help but smile back.

~

Steve breaks the first controller just trying to learn how to use it. He breaks the next three while getting really engrossed in the games, because you know, it never helps to smash that button, but everyone smashes it anyway. Clint said so.

Except, of course, for super cool snipers that can force their heart rate down. Clint said that, too. Steve grumbles about it for days until he caves and asks Clint to teach him how to do that.

Clint is quite happy to do so.

Steve hasn't been this calm. Ever.

~

Clint doesn't like to wear his aids. He does so when he's around others, but as soon as the door closes behind them in the room with the game consoles, he takes them off.

They spend hours in silence, but not without interacting. Clint speaks with his eyes, with the curls of his lips, the movements of his eyebrows, the wiggles of his fingers. He's saying more than words could, and Steve soaks it all up.

Clint pumps his fist in the air as he reaches the next checkpoint without a hitch and Steve rolls his eyes at him. Yeah, yeah, he won. Now Steve owes him a trip around Brooklyn, featuring all of the places Steve got his ass kicked before the war. It should be bitter, but the way Clint teases him about it, a small smirk on his face, makes everything feel like a source of laughter for Steve.

He still doesn't understand how they've managed to make that bet without either of them uttering one word.

With an exaggerated huff, Steve smacks at Clint's hand, then watches him as he leaves the room, stretching his back. Time for the snack run. Clint has a knack of bringing back the weirdest things to nibble on, so Steve leans back against the sofa.

On the screen, the character is standing on a cliff edge overlooking a silvery city beneath, snowy mountaintops in the distance. There are dirigibles flying in the sky, trees with dark green leaves softly shifting in a light breeze. The sun shines over everything, reflecting over the ocean on the side, and Steve gets lost in the image.

He drags his pad closer, picks up his pencil... and he's there. He's inside the story, immersed in the scenery. He can smells the trees, the sunlight warm on his face. Clint's image replaces that of the character before he knows it, a smile on his face as he looks back from the page.

Softness touches Steve's side while Clint's chin hooks over his shoulder. Steve's surprised he hasn't startled, but at the same time he's not. He's entirely used to having Clint around, and that makes this closeness incredibly natural.

Clint pokes at his drawn nose on the paper.

"I didn't get it wrong," Steve mutters, shakes his finger in a 'no' gesture.

And that earns him a pinch to the ribs. Steve must have yelped a little too loudly, because a very agitated Tony pops up in the doorway.

"For fuck's sake," Tony mumbles before collapsing on one of the sofas in a corner and promptly falling asleep.

Clint picks up Steve's pencil, scribbles on the edge of the paper. _'He was sleeping in the living room,'_ it reads, and Clint moves to lay one of his blankets over Tony.

"Let's watch a movie," comes from the other corner and Steve jumps out of his skin.

"Ugh," he rubs a hand over his face as he tries to bring his spiking heart rate down. He looks over to see Natasha waving at him.

Clint's already sifting through DVD cases. It's like the two assassins communicate by telepathy, Steve swears.

At some point during the movie, Bruce materializes out of nowhere. Tony wakes up and starts a running commentary, which makes Natasha throw popcorn at him and threaten him with calling Pepper. But Clint's head never leaves Steve's shoulder where they're resting against each other on the floor.

It feels like he's not lost and alone in this world anymore. At least, a little bit.

~

It keeps repeating. Clint plays, Steve watches. Then, when Clint reaches a point with beautiful graphics in the game, he leans back. It's his turn to watch as Steve draws.

Tony may or may not complain to Natasha that they're being creepy and he may or may not receive a death threat to avoid disturbing them. Tony will never tell the truth, and JARVIS neither confirms nor denies these events.

Tony teases them loudly. Natasha teases them subtly. Bruce demands he be kept out of it.

It makes Steve strangely warm inside his chest.

~

With a stretch, Steve blinks his eyes open. It's already dawn by the looks of it, even though it's barely light outside, and Steve feels watched. He pushes the comforter down before rolling to his back with a sigh. Clint is there, looking like he just woke up, purple pajamas and messy hair. He's standing at the foot of the bed, big grin on his face, his hands behind his back as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

Steve shakes his head with a hand wave, asking 'what is this about?'

"Oh," Clint says, tapping the side of his head, "got my ears on."

His grin doesn't waver, and it makes Steve frown with suspicion. He clears his throat. "What's up?"

"You're gonna be pissed at me," Clint says, "but I don't care 'cos you won."

Steve blinks while Clint moves closer, pulling two sheets from behind his back.

"Remember this drawing you did?" Clint asks as he hands over Steve's own sketch of their favorite video game. "Well, I submitted it to an online fan art contest and you won!"

If possible, Clint's grin becomes wider and that pulls at Steve's lips as well. Clint did this for him... it's... incredible. Not that he won, but that Clint cares enough for his scribbles to show them to others, that Clint believes in him enough to enter Steve in a contest.

But Clint's face shifts until it's filled with more wonder than glee and Steve's eyebrows raise in questioning.

"Anyway," Clint looks away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hm, that's strange, but before Steve can ponder over it, Clint hands over the other sheet. It's an email printout that proclaims Steve the winner of gift certificates and a showcase on the game's website.

"Wow," he breathes.

"You're good," Clint returns, then turns fully toward the door. "I'll--"

But Steve catches his hand, pulls him back until he can wrap his arms around Clint's middle.

"Thank you," he says, face pressed onto Clint's chest.

He's almost certain Clint will push him away, 'cos fellas these days don't really touch each other, but instead, Clint's fingers sink into Steve's hair. He hums and that makes Clint laugh, still silently, but his entire body shakes when he does it. Steve would recognize that laugh anywhere.

It's not long before Clint yawns. "I should go back to bed," he says.

"You woke up just to let me know I won?" Steve looks at him then.

"Can't hear you," Clint quips before pulling his aids out.

"Sure you can’t," Steve returns and Clint sticks his tongue out at him.

But Steve doesn't want to let go, he really, really doesn't, so he prays it won't earn him a punch when he pulls Clint down on the bed. He squirms and shifts until he can get the comforter around both of them, and he waits.

A beat and Clint turns to the nightstand, drops his aids there before he snuggles back in. He closes his eyes and that's that.

Steve's cheeks hurt for a long time because he can't stop grinning and he can't stop watching Clint as he sleeps.

Later that day, Natasha tells him he's being too chipper, that if he continues Tony will figure it out and give Steve hell. Steve really can't figure out what she's talking about. When he asks Clint, he receives a shrug.

Ah, well. His sketch won a contest and there are gift certificates he and Clint can use to buy other games and unique patches. That's more important right now and Steve twirls his pencil eagerly.

~

He wants to do something for Clint in return for the whole fan art contest thing, but Steve doesn't really know what he could do to say how grateful he is.

So when he finds himself standing in the middle of Clint's bedroom, clutching his sketchbook to his chest, he tries to move as little as possible. Clint's sleeping, thankfully, his face slack under the afternoon's orange sunlight. He looks so relaxed right now, that Steve's fingers itch to draw him. His wrist twitches and he gives in, sitting in the armchair near the windows. It gives him the best view of Clint's face. He gets lost in it just as he gets lost in drawing game scenes, the scrape of the pencil against the paper soothing.

When done, Steve leaves the drawing on Clint's nightstand, and then refuses to think about how it's considerably more satisfying drawing like this than drawing virtual characters, especially since sneaking into someone's bedroom while they sleep is creepy.

He's been expecting Clint to complain, but he says nothing. Instead, a couple of days later, Steve wakes to a weight dipping his mattress before Clint's body slots itself next to his. And, wrapping an arm around Clint is easy, his steady breathing pulling him back into slumber a lot easier than exhausting himself at the gym.

It happens again, and again, until one night Steve misses Clint's presence so much that he's the one sneaking into Clint's bed.

They don't mention it during the day, but it feels natural, refreshing.

~

"You're being creepy," Tony says around a mouthful of popcorn as he stands in the doorway.

On the screen in front of them, 'George of the Jungle' is running and Clint flips Tony off just as the big gorilla starts speaking. Steve laughs into his palm.

"Tony," Natasha says, her tone way too threatening for how relaxed she's sprawled onto the sofa behind them.

Steve scratches lightly at Clint's head where it rests on his lap as they sit on their favorite spot on the floor.

"Egh, stop that," Tony continues with a full body shake. "You're giving me goosebumps."

Just then, though, Tony yelps and jumps to the couch that Pepper's currently occupying, places Pepper between himself and Natasha. When Steve looks back, Natasha's squinting while Tony's biting his lip and Pepper's smirking in a way that says she's too amused.

Highly suspicious.

But before he can say anything, Clint pulls at his hand, intertwining their fingers, and suddenly watching Clint watch the movie is much more interesting.

~

"It wasn't me," Tony says, hands raised.

Steve crosses his arms, deepening his frown. "Then who installed that on my account?" he glowers, while two very naked guys are going at in on screen.

A very long moan resounds through the room while Clint is poking at the menu as he sits cross legged on the floor next to them.

"Now look," Tony returns, barely holding in laughter, "installing a gay porn game for you two is the prank of the century, but I can't take credit, 'cos I didn't do it," he raises a chin, smile playing on his lips. "Sadly," he adds while he crosses his own arms, matching Steve's stance.

A tug on the back of Steve's shirt grabs his attention and Steve turns. Clint points at the screen with raised eyebrows while his other hand is lifting Steve's sketchpad.

Yeah, he's right.

"That's pretty," Steve comments as he takes a seat.

He hasn't drawn naked forms in a very long while, and the two guys are beautiful, the one riding the other with his back arched against the light in a black and white photograph.

"Seriously?" Tony's voice drifts over and Steve waves him away.

~

It's a few days later when Tony presents Steve with a blog of his own, already set up with a few of his sketches.

Bruce ends up explaining for long hours how to use the interface and the scanner that's been delivered to Steve's room. Clint is there the whole time, watching with interest, nudging Steve's hand this way and that when he almost deletes the entire website a couple of times.

Tony seems to give up on commenting on Steve and Clint's behaviors. He can only manage to contain himself for certain periods at a time, his longest one being eighteen hours, while his shortest is sixty seven seconds.

Well, it makes Clint laugh when Tony can't see him, so Steve just shrugs and matches Clint's snickers.

~

It happens one morning.

Clint is already gulping down coffee by the time Steve walks into the kitchen. He's being offered a cup and he kisses Clint's cheek. He's wearing his purple aids this morning.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Steve says.

A beat later, they're both standing there frozen. Steve reckons it's not a lie, that he wants this, so in the end he shrugs and sits down. It takes Clint five whole minutes until he turns toward Steve.

"Ever played Bioshock?" he asks, taking a seat next to Steve as if nothing's happened.

But he grabs Steve's hand, intertwines their fingers, squeezing tightly, and Steve will take it, can give Clint his silence. He doesn't really need words anyway.

Steve smiles.

"No, what's it like?"

"Artsy," Clint winks.

Yeah, Steve will take it. It's delightful, like this.

~End~


End file.
